Night Over Olympus
by noiceone
Summary: An ancient enemy stirs in the depths of Tartarus, and Camp Half-Blood is under peril… but how can a quest be led when the camp's future itself has been taken? Follow the chosen five heroes as they must defeat a force more ancient than the earth itself. (Rated T for: Swearing, possible mild suggestive materials in the future)
1. Chapter 1

**1:** ** The Bus Goes Over 50 Miles Per Hour**

 _ **Jon**_

Blasting music while shooting down the freeway should have been a good thing– not even taking into account the fact that every yard took me further from school and closer to home.  
But the sky was thick with dense grey clouds, and forty minutes into my journey home the sky had opened up and the rain had been cascading down for the past three hours. I was on my way back home for spring break during what was my third consecutive year at boarding school. Or, i should probably specify, a boarding school– I hadn't stayed for longer than a year at any of the places. That was probably why my mom kept sending me further form home, first Tallahassee, then Penascola, and finally all the way out to Albany, Georgia. All of the schools were crazy stuck-up secluded boarding places in the middle of nowhere. And all of them took about five minutes to make me want to rip my hair out. But it was all good. Or at least it should have been.

I sank back in my seat, shuddering as I felt goosebumps prickle my skin under my jacket. I glared up at the grey overcast as more rain peppered the window.  
I've never fully understood it, to be honest– but any weather that doesn't entail a blue sky makes me feel awful. All my energy drains away, and I start to feel weirdly cramped and almost claustrophobic. It's been this way all my life, really. Never explained, or even touched upon, not by my mom or any doctors. Just a constant annoyance. Like all the weird stuff in my life. But before I get in to when stuff went from everyday weird to what-the-crap weird.  
My name is Jon Griffin, and I'm fifteen years old. Average personality, average looking– I'm a real stick-to-the-background guy, in the sense that back home in Florida I wouldn't have stuck out at all, with a casually tanned skin pigment and sandy hair that had that stiff just-off-the-beach look, even when I was at school and nowhere near the ocean.

I leaned my head against the cool window glass, hoping the cold would help my blooming headache. My eyes focused on droplets of water that ran steadily down the outside of the glass. I slowly went into an uncomfortable exhausted daze. I don't know how long it was until I slipped into a light sleep, watching drop after drop of water slap onto the glass and run down out of sight.

I dreamt of an immense, shadowy chamber. The floor was made of buffed black marble that had fragments of bright rock fused into it that gave off a faint glow. To either side of where I stood, the walls stood endlessly tall, stretching upward endlessly until they faded into nothingness– but that was little to what I saw when I cast my gaze forward, and I suddenly knew everything was gone. My mind, my body, the ground, the entire _world,_ would be dragged with me, down into the chamber, and dissolved into the swirling mass of black, a void of blackness that was darker than anyhting I'd ever seen, blacker than anything in our universe.  
A voice that came from every direction, layered like sixty people screaming and whispering at the same time spoke a single word. ' _Soon_.' A curling strand of the null blackness curled outward towards me like a tongue of smoke–

And my eyes snapped open the bus suddenly and violently jolted sideways, making a violent waterfall of raindrops gushing down the window. I snapped out of my groggy daze when I saw  
I yelped as my head whipped forward, and my face thudded against the back of the seat in front of me. Pain exploded in my nose. I leaned back, with my eyes shut, and groaned, feeling a trickle of blood run down form my nose. I wiped it away hastily and opened my eyes.  
I winced with pain and stared angrily at the front of the bus, towards the drivers seat. _What the hell_?

Some other passengers had the same general thought. A few shouted complaints, and most others just peered up the aisle, some rubbing necks and other mild injuries. Somewhere behind me, a baby started to wail.  
But then something weird happened, even going by the terms of my own experience of weird. And that's a statement, trust me.

I glanced at the domed mirror at the front of the bus- the driver's way of making sure no one was doing anything particularly illegal, I guess. But, somehow, the driver caught my eyes with his own sweeping gaze. His eyes were small, dark and beady. From my seat, six rows full of passengers back from that mirror, he glared at me, straight in the eyes.  
I was unable to tear my gaze away. But not in a good way. His eyes were like tethered hooks, firmly latching my own eyes to his. The glare from this man was like knives, and I could lost feel a vice of pressure begin to press on my temples. The mirror's warped reflection distorted the rest of the driver's features beyond recognition.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped back to the road. The vice loosened around my head, and I blinked my stinging eyes. My head seemed to clear slowly, like receeding fog. I thought I could see the edges of his shifty gaze crease into a smile, but I couldn't be sure. My heart was racing in my chest, and I couldn't

I shrugged inwardly, trying to pass off the cold creeping in my chest that spiked up as I shrank down into my seat. I looked around at other passengers, most of whom had since calmed down since the bus had gone out of control.  
My eyes were drawn to a girl sitting at the back of the bus, right in the corner. She looked around my age, with long, curly and dark hair that fell over her shoulders. Her skin was a bronze-brown color. She was staring up toward the driver with cold malice etched into her face. I figured she maybe hit her head when he jerked the wheel.

I resumed my position with my head resting on the window. The sky was clearer now, and I felt some of the stiffness leaving my arms. My eyes still felt heavy. I turned up the volume on my music until it vibrated in my ears. We raced past acres of green fir trees. I thought we were maybe getting closer to Jacksonville. I couldn't wait to be home. Or rather, outside my home, lying on the beach.

The brakes screeched suddenly, and my tomach lurched as the bus started swerving wildlt on the freeway. I grapped the seat to steady myself as cries rang out all down the aisle, and my eyes instinctively snapped to the bus driver's mirror. His eyes were deathly calm as a dozen more voices jioned in the chorus of yelling, intensifying when the bus screeched off the road completely, smashing the crash barrier to scrap metal.

There was a violent juddering as we bounced on the uneven grass ground. A few people fell off their seats. I glanced at the rapidly approaching tree line and braced myself.  
Someone screamed as, with the sound of crumpling metal and splintering wood, the bus lurched violently forward, and backward, grinding momentarily along the trees, before slamming to a stop.  
My head smacked against the seat in front of me again and my vision blacked out with a shock of bright pain across my head. I lay sprawled on the ground for a few seconds with a splitting pain in my forehead. The sounds of yells and groans of pain. My eyes flickered open and I looked around with throbbing vision.

No one around me seemed seriously hurt. Not that I could see, anyway. Most people were already crowding off the bus in a mass panicked mob, screaming and running for the gas station further along the roadside.  
I got to my feet shakily, took a weak step toward the door, but my legs buckled. I shot my hands out for the floor, but someone grabbed my shoulders from behind. I looked around to se the pale, dark-haired girl holding me steady. She spoke quickly, with her eyes darting to the front of the bus like she was waiting for something.  
"C'mon. Can you walk? We need to get out of here… quick."

Normally I wouldn't follow a strange girl off a crashed bus, but her earth-colored eyes were so intense that I didn't even bother arguing as she practically dragged me up the aisle.  
We got about halfway before the bus driver stepped out from behind the wheel. I hadn't even noticed the fact he was still there. The wheel axle creaked as he stepped out.  
The girl stopped in her tracks. I couldn't blame her.

The driver seemed a lot bigger than before– he was huge, so tall that we was crouching to stop his bald head from hitting the ceiling. His beady eyes were set in the middle of a grey-skinned, crudely featured face. He was grinning stupidly, showing a set of yellowed teeth with a few fillings made of what looked like bronze. His sleeves were ripped off, revealing two thick, tattooed arms. I figured this wasn't withstanding in the dress code for bus drivers, but he didn't seem to care.  
"I knew I smelled half-bloods," The giant spoke with a deep, slow voice. His fists were clenched, making webs of veins and tendons press out under his skin.  
 _"Half-Bloods"?_ I was confused, and my head still throbbed with pain. Who were these people?

The girl sighed acidly and gave the driver serious evil eyes as she let go of my arm and reached into her backpack. When she drew her hand out, she was holding a long, shining object– A dagger.

I took a half step back, eyeing up the wickedly curved blade. It seemed to be made form some deep black metal, with some carved letters along the side.  
She dropped her bag on the floor and held the knife out in front of her, the point aimed at the giant's chest.  
The giant began to lumber heavily forward, smiling. Each step rattled the bus.  
"Your Stygian toothpick won't be enough, demigod." The giant lunged suddenly, grabbing one of the chairs by the headrest, and with one jerk of a massive hand, pulled it from the floor with a creak. He held it up, poising to throw. Instinctively, I ducked, but the girl was quicker.

Her hand shot out, palm pointing at the driver. Her movement distracted him from hurling his missile, and then–  
The bus rumbled. The giant hesitated, frowning at the floor. The girl smiled.  
There was a jaw-rattling _BOOM_. The bus jumped upwards like it had been hit by a minor explosion, but i managed to stay on my feet. The giant screamed as a spike of dark rock smashed through the floor, slamming into his chest and firing his body backward. There was another boom, accompanied by the tinkling of breaking glass as the giant was hurled through the windshield and onto the grass outside.  
The girl didn't stop to admire the carnage. She used the pillar of rock as a springboard, somersaulting gracefully through the smashed windscreen after the giant.

Too much new information raced through my mind. My head had stopped hurting, but my head ached with confusion– _What the hell is going on_? Giants, magic rock explosions and a weird girl who was packing an antique dagger in her carry-on…  
I stared at the hole of the windshield as the giant yelled and the girl grunted outside the bus.  
I did what anyone else would do, I think. If they were incredibly stupid.

I took a run-up and vaulted through the windshield.


	2. Chapter 2

**2:** **A Giant Plays With Fire**

 ** _Jon_**

I hit the ground running. The giant had been thrown about twenty meters from the wrecked bus following his close encounter with the rock spear.  
He had hit the ground, hard, turning up dirt. But he was already back on his feet, shaking his head and grunting with pain.

I ran after the dark-haired girl, adrenalin pumping in my veins, crazy bravery pushing my legs forward. I caught up with her in a crazy surge of speed.  
"Turn back, idiot!" She grunted, glancing at me. "You don't know what you're getting in to."

 _She's right._ I was out of my depth. I stared at the giant, as he steadied his mashed-up head, and broke into a run, rapidly closing down the space between him and the girl. I stopped in my tracks, stumbling slightly.

They met in a clash. The giant yelled out as the girl pirouetted and slashed at his shoulder with the knife, dodging the giants fist sand landing in a crouching position. She leaped fearlessly at his back, too quick for him to turn. The ground rumbled beneath my feet as her blade flashed in the fading sunlight. The giant seemed to be overwhelmed, as the girl slowly opened more and more gashes on his body.

I wanted to help. I really did. But every time I tried to take a step, the memory of those eyes burning into my mind. I was frozen in my place, shaking with fear.

That's when everything started slipping.

It started when the giant got a lucky hit. His fists had been flying randomly at the girl, but the fight had been one-sided– The giant's brawn was far outmatched by the girl's incredible agility, along with random blasts of rock that erupted randomly form the earth. She dodged all of his punches, making them seem like he was moving in slow motion.  
Then the girl grunted with pain. The giant had anticipated her sidestep, and a fist slammed into her stomach, throwing her backwards. Her knife spun out of her grasp, whirling through the air and burying itself in the dirt next to me. The girl hit the ground near the bus with a yelp. She didn't get up.

The giant turned to me, looking me straight in the eyes– those same mesmerizing eyes that had incapacitated me on the bus. Every hair in my body stood on end. I felt a familiar vice begin to squeeze my temples. I shivered.

But suddenly, a ray of pure, yellow-white sunlight shone through a gap in the clouds. My body seemed to be filled with warm liquid. I felt suddenly happy, and stronger than ever. I realized with a start that my skin was glowing with a warm white light. The giant took a step, his eyes still fixed on me.  
But the sunlight had broken the giant's spell- I kneeled down, and grasped the knife hilt in my hands, and tugged it out of the earth. The giant grunted, with agitation.  
"Impressive, demigod. It's rare that one can break my spell," He growled, "We Eastern laistrygonians are known widely for our hypnotic prowess."

I didn't speak. I just broke into a sprint, holding the knife in one hand.

Even the giant seemed almost taken aback by my stupidity. He looked shocked for a second. Then he started to run too, his feet tearing up dirt as they pounded the ground. Sunlight started to explode, filling the roadside with heat. I looked down at my knife. I jumped and almost dropped the blade, as I realized the knife was glowing white-hot and shimmering with heat. But I didn't feel any kind of unnatural temperature in my palms.

I neared the giant, and instinct took over.  
A millisecond before we collided, I hit the ground, sliding straight between the giants ripped legs. I rolled explosively to my feet, slashing upwards with the knife. The giant roared as I felt the knife jerk violently.  
I whirled around, just in time to see the giant's newly severed arm fall to the ground, steaming with intense heat. It hit the ground and disintegrated into an ugly yellow sand.  
I hesitated momentarily, but quickly steeled myself, and slashed the black blade in an upward arc, making the giant yell again as a burning hot gash opened across his back.  
I stood, panting, as the giant craned his neck and turned to look at me. I flinched at the sheer amount of scorching hatred in his gaze.

That was when the giant disintegrated into a pile of dust. I stood, panting, with the knife still glowing yellow-white, held loosely in my hand. Behind me, the girl groaned. I turned around, dazed as she pushed herself to a sitting position. She stared at me, and the pile of sulfuric sand that was blowing away in the wind behind me. Her eyes widened.  
"Did you just–"

I guess she was expecting some kind of witty one-liner. But instead I said something smart like:  
"Oh my God. _Oh my God._ What happened. What did I do?!" I fell to my knees. "I just killed my bus driver."

The girl stood up, winced, clutching her stomach like she was in pain. Her face still screwed up, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a little bag full of this weird, mashed up food, like lemon squares or something. She pulled one out of the bag and popped it in her mouth.  
She walked briskly over to me, and offered me a hand. I grasped her hand shakily. Her skin was cold, but not clammy. I was pulled to my feet.

She smiled weakly, and brushed her dark hair behind her ear. "He's not exactly dead. His essence just disintegrated and flitted back to the depths of Tartarus-" She paused, no doubt noting my mystified expression.

"Oh, gods." She sighed exasperatedly, "I'm awful at this… I guess I'll leave you to Chiron."  
I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. I couldn't tell by the tone of her voice. She talked without expression, like she was constantly viewing a world without color.  
I think I liked her.

She tried to move, but her face screwed up. She still seemed kind of sore.  
"Are you okay?" I asked, as she turned around gingerly, making her way to the roadside slowly. I followed her steadily, still quite shaken up from my battle. My hands shook violently. I looked back at towards where the giant had died. The sand had completely dispersed.

She stopped suddenly, right in front of the twisted, ruined crash barrier. Cars raced by, apparently oblivious to the crashed bus and fifteen year old that had disintegrated the bus driver. The sunlight was fading, and a familiar ache sank into my bones.  
The girl patted her pockets down.  
She sighed again. "Crap… no drachma… okay, I suppose we have to shadow travel."

"Wait, what? Shadow tra–"

She interrupted me, "Yes, shadow travel. Shut up. Let's go, before more of them show up."  
She grabbed me by the wrist and started dragging me away, towards the trees.

I choked my reply down, and stumbled as she practically dragged me into the trees' shade.

"More of them? Was _that_ guy not like… the big one? The boss battle?" I admit, I sounded like a total wuss. The girl laughed, and place her free hand on a dark, shadowed tree trunk. Her brow was knitted in concentration.

"Wishful thinking. _That_ was just one Laistrygonian. We were lucky, they usually travel in packs."  
I tried to imagine six or seven demon bus drivers. It was not a pretty picture. The girl's grip on my arm tightened. A shiny sweat broke out on her brow as I could have sworn I saw shadows on the tree trunk begin to creep towards her fingers.  
"Are you okay?" I asked cautiously.

She nodded, with evident effort. "Yeah… I'm just not used to bringing two people along." Then, the temperature abruptly dropped about a bazillion degrees. I shivered, and blew mist out my mouth.  
"There we go," She said, satisfied. I think I had time to swear loudly before intense darkness exploded around us.

We entered a new world, full of cold, shadow and screams. I don't know how long we rushed through the swirling grays and blacks. I was only aware of the girls' fingers digging into my arm. Her skin was like ice.

Then, we slammed into a wall of white-yellow light. I gasped, as I felt my feet land on solid ground, and blaring light filled my vision. I squinted, trying to let my eyes adjust to the sunlight.

 _Ah, sunlight_. My body felt strengthened, and wonderful. The girl was standing in front of me. She let go of my arm.  
Then my eyes cleared, and a wonderful scene opened up in front of me. A wide valley, fronted by blue ocean waves, patched with dense evergreen woods, and dotted with a wild assortment of old-school cabins and white marble buildings… like ancient architecture or something. We were standing at the lip of a grassy hill, next to a huge pine tree with a golden blanket shining in the lowest bough.

 _Nice,_ I thought simply.  
Then my knees buckled and I hit the floor, and blackness sank around me. My last memory was the girl leaning down over me, looking more exasperated than concerned. Then everything was gone.

* * *

I woke up lying on a soft, warm bed, with a thin white sheet spread smoothly over my body. I tried to sit up.

 _Nope_ , my body said. Pain exploded in my head, chest and limbs. I flopped back onto the pillow. I groaned. I was in a old-fashioned, sand wood cabin-looking room, with wooden crossbeams. There was a large paneled window that had rich sunlight streaming through half-closed drapes. There were rows of best around the room, and wooden cabinets lined the walls. My bed was in the middle of one row, directly under the window.  
Someone shifted in the corner opposite the window, next to the door. I looked over, and choked. There was a buff guy standing in he corner, wearing red board shorts and a tight-fitting white shirt, like a surfer. The only malfunction with his appearance was the dozens of eyeballs that were dotted everywhere around his body. He regarded me silently, which was eerie due to the hundreds of pupils that were trained on me.

Then the girl burst into the room. The door slammed into the wall behind it, and the eyeball surfer dude had to jump out of the way.  
"Oh thank gods, you're alive," She gaped, pacing rapidly to my bedside. "I thought I killed you,"

I stared at her. _I had almost died?_ "W-what are you-"

She interrupted me. It seemed she was making that a habit, "Here, take some of this." She straightened and grabbed a glass out of one of the wall cabinets. She handed it to me.

It was cold to the touch, with ice cubes clinking against the glass, floating in the honey-coloured liquid. She popped straw in the glass and placed it in my shaking hand. I took a sip, and almost dropped the glass.  
It was incredible– it tasted like a strawberry milkshake, like my mom used to make for me after school sometimes. I took a second look at my glass, staring at the clear amber liquid, with ice cubes still floating in it, clinking on the glass. Definitely not a milkshake. It was cold, but I suddenly felt warmth in my bones, and my head pain receded slowly.

"Nectar," The girl said simply, "The drink of the gods. You need it, too– I guess you don't mix with Shadow Travel." She regarded me inquisitively for a moment, like she was staring beyond me, _into_ me with those black eyes.  
Then she offered a hand. "C'mon, I'll give you a tour– Oh, and maybe I'll introduce you to Chiron."

I grabbed her hand with newfound strength, drinking the last dregs of the 'Nectar'. She pulled me to my feet for the send time, and I followed her, still a little shaky, from the room


	3. Chapter 3

**3.** ** A Regular Summer Camp; Except Not**

 _ **Jon**_

I followed the girl out of the room, stumbling slightly. Despite my rapid Nectar-fuelled recovery, my knees still shook. As we passed through the doorframe, the surfer dude nodded at me, all of his eyes closing in acknowledgement. I guess I should have been used to weird stuff by then, but I still felt creeped out.

I staggered through the doorframe and came out in a weird room that was a mix between a college rec. room and a war headquarters. The center of the room was taken by a ping pong table that was littered with an odd assortment of Crackers and tactical-looking maps that seemed to show the valley I had seen before I passed out. I paused to look at one of the maps. Some areas in the expansive forest were circled in red ink, with the word _Dragons?_ scrawled hastily next to it. My stomach lurched.

"Um… are there dragons...roaming the woods here?" I sped up, falling in line with the girl as she passed through another doorway and outside, onto a wooden deck. I winced, my eyes adjusting to silky yellow sunlight and clear skies. I grinned happily. I was barefoot, and wood was warm underneath my soles. I noticed I was wearing new clothes– Fresh shorts and an orange t-shirt.

The girl replied without looking, leading me around the corner. "Yeah, but not that many."

I was about to argue that one dragon is probably too many, but we turned the corner and came to the front of the building, where there was a card table set up, with two people sitting at it, turning over cards. One of them was a kid with curly hair. He heard us coming, turned, _bleated_ , and ran off the deck, down a well-trodden path and over to a volleyball court where some kids were messing around, dressed in the same orange t-shirt I was wearing. One of his shoes– no, his _foot–_ fell off as he stumbled away.  
The man across the table looked up and saw us standing awkwardly at the corner. He had curly greying brown hair and a long beard. His eyes were bright, serious but somewhat sombre. I got the impression was older than he let on.

"Leah. Good morning." He said, smiling lightly. I realized with a start that I hand't even known my rescuer's name. I glanced over at her brown-black curled hair, earth-coloured eyes and pale skin. _Leah_.

The man continued, and he made to move over to us. I noticed that he was in a wheelchair, with a wool blanket spread over his legs.

"I'm glad you made it back alive." He said that as if kids didn't always come back from school.  
Leah nodded seriously. She clearly respected this guy, a lot. I decided that his eyes were brimming with more than age– They were filled with swirling, ancient power. I didn't know how I could sense his virtue, but my skin prickled and the hairs on my neck stood up as he looked back into my eyes.

"And who, Leah," The man continued, not breaking his gaze. "Might this young hero be?"

 _Hero?_ I had never been called a hero before. Idiot, check. Dork, check. Jon, check. But never hero. I smiled slightly and brushed my tangled hair out of my eyes.

"Um, this is Chron," She told me, gesturing to the man. He nodded again. "And Chiron, his name's Jon… Griffin?" Leah looked across at me. I nodded at my surname, but I was confused.

"How do you know my–"

Chrion interrupted me, "Leah has been posted at your School for months, monitoring your progress."

I gaped. "My progress– _What_ are you people talking about?" I guess that was maybe a bit rude, but i had spent the last however many hours getting thrown off the bus, used as a punching bag and then kidnapped and taken to this… wherever I was.  
I needed answers.

Chiron looked brooding, but somewhat pleased. Then he did something really unexpected. He stood up.  
The blanket fell away from his leafs as he leaned out of his chair, but his feet didn't move. Chrion kept moving forward, coming out of his chair like a jack-in-the-box. A white-haired leg craned from behind Chiron, like it was coming _out_ of the chair and thudded on the wooden deck. Three more legs clunked on the floor, and Chiron stood, his wheelchair abandoned, fake legs still attached.

From the waist up, he was the same– A middle-aged guy with a tweed jacked and worry lines etched into his face. But his bottom half was that of a white… horse, complete with swishing tail.

"You're a…" I trailed off, too awestruck to speak.

"Centaur," Leah spoke up, a tingle of amusement in her voice. I nodded dumbly.

 _Okay_ , I thought. _Ogres can be bus drivers. Pony-men can hide their legs in magic wheelchairs._  
I turned and stared at Leah, flabbergasted. I think I saw an amused smile playing on her lips.

Chiron walked– no _trotted_ – over to the stairs that led down to the grass. He gestured for me to follow, and spoke in a strong, clear voice, but not in English. His language was something archaic, ancient. The words trembled with primordial power.

 _"Chalazi Jon Griffin, o gios tôn theôn,"_

 _Hail, Jon Griffin, son of the Gods_ , I silently translated.

I didn't hesitate. I followed him down the steps, with Leah trailing behind.

"Okay… first things first, I guess," I had to walk at double pace to keep up with Chiron's horse stride. "Where am I?"

I paused, "Who are you guys?"

Chiron smiled thinly, like he got that question all the time. "Jon, are you familiar with the gods?"

I paused to think. "Like _God_ , God? Like in Church? 'Cos I don't really–"

Chiron held up a hand, silencing me. "No, not capital-G God… I'm talking of the Ancient gods of Greece," He paused, "And later Rome."

I frowned. "Wait… like, um, Poseidon? Hera? Those gods?" I craned my neck, trying to avoid looking at Chiron's lower half, which still hurt my head to think about. How could he fit in that wheelchair, if not by magic? It was impossible, my logic told me. But so was making my body glow and slicing up an angry troll with a burning dagger.

"Yes, those gods. The age-old ruler of the heavens."

"But they're just–" I wanted to say _myths_. _Stories_. But Chiron stopped with a look like he knew I didn't believe myself. Not anymore. I looked back at Leah, who was trailing behind us with her hands in her jean pockets. She almost-smiled again, nodding to me encouragingly.

"These gods… are they still… around?" I almost laughed at myself, but thunder reverberated through a clear sky.

Chiron finally spoke. "Yes. The gods of Greece… they were simply too powerful to simply _die out_ with the Greek and Roman empires. They moved,"

"Along with the core of human innovation," Leah said, "With Western Civilization."

Chiron smiled and nodded. I stopped walking for a moment. My head was spinning. I wanted to dismiss what they were saying, but something deep in my chest stirred. I looked over the valley, with its Greek-styled marble buildings looking out on the glittering sea.  
I felt years of oppressed memories- Understanding Greek lettering at museums, even a few times spotting weird, monstrous creatures… all of it coming to light. My knees shook as more thunder rolled and the sun shone on my back. The light warmed me, like an encouraging pat on the back.

Leah and Chiron looked back at me as I looked up from the ground. "Let's walk."

Chiron went on as we passed the Volleyball courts. The path we were following snaked by hilly strawberry fields that were dotted with other kids, some of whom seemed to be wearing shaggy fur sweatpants. Either that or… I didn't want to know.

"If you're familiar with the general legends, I'm sure you know of the demigods." Chiron said. "The half-mortal children of the gods."

I thought for a second. "You mean like… Perseus? Jason?" Chiron nodded.

"Yes, precisely. Well, if the gods never ceased to exist…"

He trailed off, waiting for me to finish. I swallowed. "Then they never stopped having kids with mortals." I looked up at him, and he didn't stop me so I continued. "So… all these kids here are… they're…" I shook my head, too stunned to speak. I looked at Leah.

"The children of the gods." He finished.

I made a time-out gesture. "Wait, but then… why am I here?" I already knew the answer to that question. It explained a lot. My mom's aversion to questions about my dad. I remembered what Chiron had said to me, in the language I now realized was Ancient Greek.

 _Hail, Jon Griffin, son of the gods._

Chiron looked at me, with empathy in his eyes. I got the feeling he'd had this conversation with a lot of people. He said what I already felt in the back of my mind.

"Because you, Jon Griffin, are an _i̱mítheos_. A child of Olympus," His words hung in the air.

I nodded. My mouth was dry.  
Like I said, my Mom was always distant– emotionally and physically. She was always away on business trips, leaving me with a rotating team of babysitters. Even when she was home, she carefully tiptoed any passionate confrontations. I loved her, but she still aged sore if I mentioned anything about dad.  
And here were two nearly complete strangers offering to identify him. And, if the gods _were_ still alive, then maybe, one day…  
I could meet him.

"So this place, then." My voice was quieter than usual. "These kids are all… demigods?"

Chiron nodded. "Yes. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, the only… well _one_ of the only safe havens for the children of gods. Or Half-Bloods, if you will." He said, "This is where they come to train, learn and in some cases, live. The mortal world is incredibly dangerous for most demigods. Monsters, like the laistrygonian you two faced today, hunt heroes down. Here, you can learn to protect yourself."

"So… who's my dad, if he's a– a God?"

Chiron looked pensive for a moment. "We have no way to know for sure, at the moment. Until your father claims you, which should be soon. The gods have sworn to claim their children by the time they reach Camp Half-Blood."

I wanted to ask Leah who her godly parent was, but I was curious over something else. "What's claiming?"

"A god will usually send a sign to their child, recognizing them as a hero," Chiron replied. He exchanged a furtive look with Leah, like _Talk to me later_.

We passed by a wide lake. The campers were canoeing around, some simultaneously clashing honest-to-goodness swords. The air was filled with shouts, splashing and the clang of metal on metal. These kids certainly knew how to protect themselves. If a coning monster started sizing them up, they were totally set.

We walked in silence as i took in the beauty of Camp Half-Blood. Kids passed us by, heading off to regular camp activities, like sword-fighting and whatever they could do with the climbing wall I could see in the distance that seemed to be leaking hot lava.

Chiron and Leah led the way to a circle of oddly assorted buildings. They ranged wildly from grand marble temples to a shady-looking place that looked like it was made of pure black-purple obsidian, and even a simple brown wooden place that looked like a regular old cabin. It stuck out oddly, sandwiched between the obsidian building and another one that looked like a mini factory, complete with smokestacks.  
There was a kind of court in the middle of the ring, with an amalgamation of Greek fountains (complete with naked gods), a glowing hearth and basketball hoops. Other kids milled around the buildings and the yard, shooting hoops or, as expected, doing other crazy magical stuff. It pretty much summed up my experience of Camp Half-Blood.

"These are the Cabins, where our campers come back at the end of the day, to rest peacefully. Mostly."

I looked around the camp, soaking in the sunshine and awesomeness of it all. How could I fit in here? I felt like the only thing I had in common with these kids was my new shirt.

Chiron placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Don't fret, Jon. You _do_ belong here. This can be your home now, I swear it. Train, and learn, young hero. You have much strife ahead of yourself."  
I wanted to ask what he meant. Jeez, could this guy tell the future as well as hide a full-size horse behind in a wheelchair? But before i could speak, he turned and cantered away.

Leah paused before she turned away. "Good luck. For tonight, you can bunk in Cabin Eleven." She pointed towards the homely wooden cabin. "They're good kids, but keep your wallet close by. Dinner's in about half an hour, and then capture the flag."  
She smiled then, a full on, honest-to-god smile, with teeth and everything. "Good luck."

She turned around and walked off with Chiron. They began an intense-looking conversation.  
Someone placed a hand on my shoulder from behind, making me jump. I turned around to see two identical guys with curly brown hair looking down at me, with mischievous half-smiles, like they were waiting for the perfect moments to pants me and take my valuables.

The taller guy spoke first. "I'm Travis, that's Connor. We're the Cabin Eleven counsellors. Good job on getting Leah to smile, by the way. That girl is _way_ too serious." His voice had an impish tone to it, like he was on the verge of laughing.

Connor spoke up, leading me towards the wooden cabin.  
"C'mon. Got any money? We'll get you a bed, then we can teach you poker!"

* * *

 **Hey guys!  
** Thanks for waiting. Sorry this chapter took a bit longer, but school really sucks, so I wrote this one a bit longer. Again, thanks to everyone who submitted a character, and I promise the next chapter will have some of the other demigods! Thanks for reading, please follow and fave! Drop me a review with any feedback and tips.


	4. Chapter 4

**4. I Tickle Dragons with Feathers**

 _ **Romano**_

Just my luck. Acres and acres of woods to explore, and I wander right into the freaking dragons.

Regular Camp life had been going on for two weeks before I pulled the short straw, landed with the job of "search and retrieve" after the escaped monsters. The dragons had escaped at the end of last Christmas after the Stoll brothers had put fire ants down the wrong camper's jeans, and...

Well, I guess you can paint the picture. Three escaped dragons, one pair of ruined pants, and a whole lot of trouble.

Mostly, I didn't mind the woods– It kind of suited my rambling nature. In fact, I enjoyed walks among the trees, although they were usually packed with monsters most of the time. I could get way from most monsters, but so far during the quest lots of demigods, most of them more experienced than I was, had some close scrapes.  
I wasn't unfamiliar with bad luck. My dad was Janus, the God of doorways and random choices and luck. I really couldn't count on any consistencies in my life. I seemed to have some kind of aura that attracted rapid change.

I often caught myself blaming my godly heritage for all the crappy stuff that had happened to me.

Apparently, we were looking for three Persian dragons– Not the largest or strongest breed, but they were infamously cunning and clever. They could breath a dilute form of Greek Fire, which didn't burn indefinitely but could spread like wildfire if not contained. I carried a satchel of _Valdez_ ™ _Water Grenades_ at my side in case there was an incident, and of course my sword, _I_ _érax_ hung at my side. Its Celestial Bronze blade glowed softly in the light, leading me as I stumbled over hidden roots, cursing quietly. I wasn't really 'combing' the forest for clues; I was more just walking around, hoping no monsters would find me before my shift was over.

Overhead, the tree's branches criss-crossed and packed together, forming a near-opaque barrier of leaves, making it seem like evening time as I meandered aimlessly through the forest, although I was sure it wasn't past sundown.  
I wondered what was going to happen after dinner. It was a Friday, which normally meant a game of Capture the Flag, but the woods were basically a no-go zone at the moment. Chiron had had all the year-round campers trying to get rid of the escapees, but so far there had been no luck.

Until I came along, of course.  
I had been in a sort of trance, as I sometimes get when I'm wandering around. I probably should had been watching where I was going, but to be honest I had gone on so many walks through the trees that I could pretty much find my way back from anywhere.  
I was walking along the creek, looking at the stars through the thin gash in the canopy when I heard a branch snap behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

I whirled around, unsheathing _Iérax_ with a metallic scraping noise. I held the bronze blade out in front of me, lighting up a paths of bushes from which the snap had come. The leaves were rustling in the wind. I sighed with relief, letting the point of my sword drop slightly.

I realized too late that the air was completely still. With a serpentine hiss, the underbrush exploded and a dragon leaped out, faster than I could raise my sword.  
I would have been cut to ribbons by thrashing claws. But there was a tug in chest, and with a _pop_ I was standing ten feet away, at the tail end of my attacker. A nice perk from being the son of Janus.

The dragon hit the dirt where I had been standing, and snarled like _Where are Snacks?!_ It was small as dragons go, only being about the size of a St. Bernard dog. It had moss green scales, with thick limbs, a thrashing tail, and a long neck topped with a vaguely snake-like head and wicked-looking barbed fangs.

The dragon whipped its head around, staring at me with lime-green reptilian eyes. They were awash with cruel intelligence and cunning. I hefted _Iérax_ as the dragon stood up and turned.

My heart was pounding in my chest, but I had (supposedly) _trained_ for this. One dragon I could handle.

A chill went up my spine as something chittered ominously behind me.  
 _Perfect_ , I cursed silently to myself.  
I craned my neck and swallowed a yell as two more dragons stalked like jungle cats from the trees. The largest of the three had bronze claws like daggers and emerald flames spilling from its jaws.

Instinct took over as the first dragon blasted fire at me. I dissipated with a pop, appearing two feet to the left. I rolled as one of the dragons pounced. The monster screeched as it flew over my head and crashed into a pine tree.  
I leaped up as the biggest dragon spewed a pillar of searing-hot flames at me. I stepped to the right, slashing my sword through the air as flames seared my shirt. Feather-shaped shards of Celestial Bronze flew from my blade, thudding into the dragons flank and hurling it backwards into the creek. It howled as it dissolved and was washed away like Kool-Aid mix.

I turned around, shakily slapping the flames on my shirt out as the two dragons prowled towards me steadily, hackles raised and ready to spring. There was a deep rumbling coming from their throats, and suddenly they coughed green sparks, and their jaws began to glow with Greek Fire.  
I could hear distant raised voices and shouts, indicating approaching backup, but I doubted they would get there before I was turned to extra crispy barbecue.

Head-on contact was not my forté, and that was exactly where this fight was headed. I wasn't used to using my teleporting power this often and this fast. I estimated that I had one decent jump left before I would be too tired to fight. I had to make it count, to play my cards right. Making the right choice, not the easy one– That was what my dad was all about.

The dragons reared their heads and spewed pale green fire. But I had zapped away.  
I hung ten feet the air above them for a millisecond, sword raised in two hands above my head. Then I fell, slashing my sword in a downward arc as I fell, spewing bronze feather-shrapnel everywhere. The dragons screeched incredulously, but they were too startled to attack before my sword lopped off one of the dragons' heads. I hit the dirt with a thud and rolled away instinctively.

I twirled and rose to face my last opponent. But my arms shook. The last jump had drained my energy. I could barely hold _Iérax_ straight. The last dragon shook a few bronze feathers form its hide and advanced as its friends body disintegrated. Hatred burned in its eyes, and it snarled furiously, snarling and spitting sparks.

Just as I was about to go down in a literal blaze of glory, something whistled through the air past my ear and thudded into the dragons neck. It looked enraged as its body crumbled, leaving behind nothing but a glowing arrow and a pile of sand.  
I turned and followed the arrow's path to a blond guy, tall and slight of build, with bright blue eyes and tangled hair standing at the edge of the treeline. He looked about college age. He fist pumped with his bow in hand, grinning.

"Sweet shot!" Will Solace grinned goofily. He saw me staring, and his smile dropped. "Wait, are there any more of them?" He whipped his head around, scanning the woods. He looked about ready to run up a tree.

"Nah, Will. You're cool." I stumbled over and leaned on a tree. "Do you… have any ambrosia?" He slapped a small square of cake-like food into my hand. I popped in my mouth and swallowed, letting warmth sink into my chest, and my arms stopped shaking. I sheathed my sword.

"Is that all of 'em?" Will asked again. I shrugged.

"Chiron said it was just three, but you never know." I was really, really hoping I did know. Will slouched, suddenly looking ridiculously relaxed as he led me back through the woods with his bow hooked on his shoulder, arrows clattering in his quiver. His blond hair seemed to reflect light that wasn't there, its disheveled curls dancing with highlights.  
We made dumb small talk as we trudged through the undergrowth, talking about camp gossip. He mentioned a new kid arriving, brought in by Leah Grady. I was vaguely interested, though it was pretty early for someone new to be arriving.

There was a gradual increase in the light that broke the tree canopy. We were nearing the forest's breaking point. The trees began to fad tout and become sparser until we came out of the woods and out onto the Mess Hall pavilion. Will stopped, and took out a bow.

"Gotta tell the other guys that we're all dome here," He explained, nocking a strange-looking arrow the thad a blunt red tip that didn't look too aerodynamic. He fired it into the air. it sailed over the trees, whistling loudly. It exploded with a squeal, spelling out a message in glittering red lettering: _We're done, dorks._

"Nice," I remarked as Will sighed with satisfaction. He flicked his bow back onto his shoulder.

People were laughing and talking as they gathered under the white marble roof, darting between gilded columns and sitting down at their respective tables.

"Sweet, just in time for dinner." Will gave me a thumbs up and jogged over to join his brothers and sisters.

Kids were sorted onto tables based on Olympian parentage, which was a system that worked well in the sense that the Hermes pranksters were grouped together and thus were generally the ones dancing around with firecrackers down their sleeves. I was sitting in the corner by myself at the Janus table. As far as I knew, my dad hadn't had any more kids. I was pretty okay with that– I wasn't sure how many more bipolar, teleporting demigods this Camp could handle.

I recalled what Solace had said about a new camper. I scanned the Hermes table as they grouped. New and unclaimed campers were generally sorted into cabin Eleven. The kids were smirking and joking amongst themselves. I browsed the similar elfish features of your typical Hermes kid until I found a kid that stuck out, with his brown-blond hair and tanned skin.  
He looked younger than me, maybe fourteen, and he was tall and lean-built. His eyebrows were slightly knotted in confusion and his gold-hazel eyes darted around, possibly taking in the goat-legged satyrs that clopped around the marble floor. I deduced that he was new to the whole primordial-gods-rule-our-lives shebang. People were pointing and whispering, and some of the Ares kids sneered. Their dad was the God of war, so they were most likely thinking of ways to pulverize the new kid.  
I hoped for Hades he was prepared for whatever Capture-The-Flag variation Chiron had planned for us tonight. But after spending time with Leah Grady, I assumed he was pretty much ready for anything.

The dryads started to hand out platters of extra-lean barbecue, Olympus style. I asked my goblet for grape soda (I made sure to ask politely. The cups were known to spray rude demigods with soda if provoked). I then stood, and shuffled over to the burning brazier. Campers lined up, one by one, scraped off a sacrifice to whatever Olympian they felt needed some love.

I noticed the new kid standing in front of me. He brushed his tangled hair off his brow and looked around, evidently confused.

I tapped him on the shoulder. "Its a sacrifice," I told him. "To whatever god. I'd recommend whoever your parent is, if you want o get claimed ASAP."

He nodded thanks and smiled slightly, stepping forward and chucking a juice pork rib into the flames. He stayed for a moment, watching sparks and embers twirl into the sky and dissipate.

I scraped off a slice of brisket as he walked back to the Hermes table. I mad amy routine prayer as the smell of smoky barbecue filled my nose.  
 _Dad… Janus, whatever. I need… Well. You know what I need. You're the god of doors. So unlock the door that_ she _needs. Please._

I fought back the prickling tears behind my eyes. I walked back to my table as the last Camper made their sacrifice. I was almost eating before I sat down. its funny how almost dying a lot can work up an appetite.

Apparently, almost everyone at Camp had almost died today (which in all fact, was entirely possible) as in no time plates were cleaned of food.  
Chiron gained our attention by slugging his hoof on the stone floor. The sound echoed around the pavilion, cutting out all chatter even from the Hermes kids.

Chiron spoke in a booming voice. "Heroes!" One word cut through the fading light. He went on, satisfied with our attention. "First and foremost, I should inform you that tonight we shall have a traditional game of Battleship siege!" Campers cheered.

Battleship siege was like typical summer-time sailing mixed with full-scale Greek warfare. This involved lots of ambushes, explosions and screaming.

Chiron went on, making the usual camp announcements: _You're all children of all-powerful gods, not fraternity brothers; Stop feeding the dragon other camper's pants_ and all that stuff.

Chiron clapped his hands and dismissed us, giving us an hour to prepare for Battleship. I noticed as everyone rushed off that the new kid was left alone as the Stoll brothers lit a firecracker and weaseled away into the throng.

I walked up to him, falling into step at his shoulder, "Hey, what's up? I'm Romano." I smiled for effect.

He looked sort of surprised, but somehow still relaxed. "Oh, hi. I'm Jon." He said, smiling back. He looked pretty tired.

"You're pretty new, right? How're you…um, you know taking all this all in?" I didn't really know why I was concerning myself with this kid. It would probably make me a target tonight, but it was like something was subtly nudging me towards him. Or maybe a certain group of divine some _ones_.

He shrugged and smiled in a labored kind of way. "I don't know, to be honest. All this stuff, like, the mythology and crap, right? That's the stuff that teachers would explain like, _Oh, the gods were just ways for Greeks to explain weather and teach their people lessons._ But now you're saying they're real?" He paused for a breath.

"I don't want to believe this. Any of this, y'know? This makes me think I've gotta be nice all the time, so no gods strike me down. And I don't want to live like that. But, deep down, I _know_ its all true."  
Jon looked a little more tired after his outburst. I smiled wryly, watching as he went through the phases that all demigods go through.

"Things are different here." I said simply.

"Thanks for the deduction, Sherlock." He said sarcastically. "So anyway… If you're here, who's your dad, or mom, or…whatever?"

"Janus," I replied, as the Cabins neared. "He's the god of beginnings, endings, transitions, choices, doors… the list goes on."

He nodded. "When do I find out who my parent is?"

"You have to go on the Jerry Springer show." I joked. "Just kidding. You'll be claimed soon, supposedly by the time you're thirteen."

Jon frowned. I guessed he was older than thirteen.

"Hey, don't worry," I said encouragingly, clapping him on the shoulder. "The gods get lazy sometimes. You'll know soon, promise."

He nodded, then his eyes widened. "Wait, what's Battleship Siege?"

I chuckled and broke away form his side, and half-jogged over to my cabin as he stared after me anxiously. "Oh, you'll see." I called back.

* * *

 **Hey guys!**

I actually had a lot of free time this week, so this chapter is quite a bit longer than the rest of them. It's also the first without Jon's POV. Hope the character's creator likes it! Their should be jus tone more chapter before the quest gets underway.  
Please review and PM with suggestions and general feedback! Thanks for the support you guys have given this so far.


	5. Chapter 5

**5. We Rescue Magic Supergirl**

 ** _Romano_**

A year ago, I never would have guessed I'd help a fifteen year-old try to beat up my friends and steal their pirate ship. But hey, there you go.

It started when someone knocked on the door of my cabin. Well actually, I should be more specific. Someone knocked on the sixth door on east-facing side of my cabin.  
You see, the Janus cabin was less of a traditional-summer-camp wooden-log-cabin deal. It was square in shape, with a marble platform wrapping around the base, complete with marble columns at the corners. The walls were floor-to-ceiling wall-to-wall doors. Big, heavy mahogany doors, eight across each side of the building, each engraved with a different stage of life, meeting in the middle at the front, with each of the two centered doors engraved with birth and death. Th beginning and the end, a signature of Janus.

It took me a moment to locate the right door. I swung myself off the bed and crossed the rows of empty ones. Apparently, no confused mortals had tried to seep in my room that night. Always a plus.

I concentrated on the door as I walked, and it swung open before I even got there (Another Janus perk). Jon stood there awkwardly, his hand raised as if he were just about to knock on the door again.

"Hey,' He said. "Sorry. The Stolls ran off– Something about water grenades in the toilets?– and I don't really know anyone else."

I laughed. "Yeah, no problem. Battleship starts in…" I glanced at my watch. "Crap. Thirty minutes. I don't even know what team I'm on… Do you have armor? A sword?"

Jon blinked.

"Yeah, I guess not." I led him out and away from the cabins. We passed the arena, where there was a kid chucking a bronze shield like a frisbee. The ground thudded as a hulking black dog, the size of a jeep, lumbered after it with a deafening "BWOOF!"

Jon looked worried, but I explained that the 450-pound beast was just Mrs. O'Leary, our class pet of sorts. He didn't really look that much more relaxed. The sinking sun beat down on our exposed necks as we walked past the strawberry fields, chatting about everything and nothing, you know, like primordial archetypal immortal beings that could smite you as soon as pick their nails.

We arrived at the armory. It was a metal building, larger than your average tool shed. I unbolted the door and we stepped inside. Jon gasped.  
There were shelves lining the walls, brimming with bows, daggers, clubs, even a few modified pistols. There was an umbrella stand in the corner that bristled with spears and longswords, and big boxes filled with other miscellaneous arms. The floor was littered with trashy weapons; snapped arrows, bent daggers, melted sword blades. One wall had coat racks that had leather and bronze breastplates and helmets.  
The Celestial Bronze and even a few Imperial Gold weapons gave off a pulsing magical glow.

"Take whatever, everyone gets a weapon" I said nonchalantly, waving my hand at the goods.

Jon took a second to look at me in disbelief. Then he went to it, rummaging through shelves and racks of swords and daggers. I enjoyed his enthusiasm.  
He eyed up the razor-sharp edges of swords. And gave the bowstrings a tweak. He jumped as a knife he was testing shrank into a pair of Apple head phones. "Whoa," He said, "Magic. Is everything here magical?"

"Probably, some of them." I shrugged as he pressed a button on the headset and it sprang into knife form. "Knives are hard to fight with. Make sure your weapon feels balanced in your hand." I suggested. He nodded and put the knife down as something at the back of the shelf caught his eye.

He scoured the back of the shelf, knocking a wicked-looking curved sword to the ground. The sword hit the floor and promptly changed into a snake Beanie Baby.  
Jon pulled out his arm. There was a small red pen-knife in his hand. It had different tools; a corkscrew, nail filer, nail scissors… and of course a small blade.  
It was embroidered with a golden lyre symbol. There was a button on the side, like one used to flick the blade out. Jon pressed it, and there was a brief flash of soft yellow light. Where the knife head just been, in Jon's hand, there was a glowing bronze sword.  
It was made in the Spartan _kopis_ style– a single-edged and curved blade, used primarily for slashing and hacking, with a hooked hilt and a supple grip wrapped with scarlet leather.

Jon grinned. "I _like_ this." He said, "Why didn't anyone else pick this up?" He hefted the blade. I took a step back. Standing with newbie demigods swinging swords around? Not a good idea.

"Well… maybe someone just forgot about it. Or… it could be that sword that explodes if you shout to loud." I suggested.

Jon didn't seem bothered. He swung his new sword back and forth. After a minute for two, he found a button on the sword's pommel. He pressed it, and was suddenly holding the pen-knife again.  
He inspected it more closely. Underneath the lyre, something was branded in gold Ancient Greek characters.

" _F_ _áros_." Jon read. "It means… Beacon, in Greek." Jon looked different from the awkward, nervy kid I had seen at dinner. His face practically glowed with newfound confidence and perk. He looked about ready to lay siege on the Greek navy. Hopefully.

I quickly fitted him with a new breastplate and gauntlets. He didn't want a shield, but I gave him one anyway, just in case. He almost buckled under the weight of metal.

As I shut and bolted the door behind us, Jon slipped his new knife into his shorts pocket. We made our way back to the cabins. We had ten minutes until we were supposed to meet up for the game.

I did my best Chiron impression. "And now, we go to get our butts kicked by the Ares cabin." I joked.

Jon looked anxious. "What exactly _is_ Battleship Siege?" He asked for the second time.

I explained the rules quickly. "There's two teams. One team is positioned on a Greek trireme. Their goal is to protect the ship at all costs form the other team, who's main goal is to sink the ship."

Jon gave a forced grin. "Sounds dangerous."

I laughed as we came to the cabins. Kids rushed around wearing a mixture of armor and bathing suits. Some fights were already breaking out, and I saw Lou Ellen form the Hecate cabin being chased by some Ares kids, who were mysteriously missing their ears and noses.

Me and Jon located the Stoll brothers at their usual perch; hiding from whoever they had just pranked. They were skulking behind the Hermes cabin. I asked them what team Janus would be playing with.

Travis pulled a slightly crumpled scrap of paper from his pocket. "Um… you're with us. Hermes, Janus, Hecate, Apollo… We're attacking. Athena, Hephaestus, Ares and Nemesis and a few others on defense."

"Plan?"

"Nope. Meet on the beach in ten minutes."

I nodded and Jon and I scampered off as some angry guys pointed at them, shouting. Their hair was a collective shade of hot pink, which I figured hadn't been a happy accident. The Stoll brothers ran.

I grabbed my own armor form my cabin, and led Jon down to the beach. The Athena and Hephaesrus cabins were just launching their latest contraption– a thirty-foot wooden trireme.  
It was small compared to one of the actual Greek ship, only about twenty-five metros in length, but it was still incredible to see it at Long Island.  
The ship was made of smooth pine wood. It had two masts, each with a square-shaped cloth sail. Its hull bristled with oars, and the prow had two eyes painted on the side that actually looked around and blinked like a cartoon.

The two teams converged on the beach. My team, led by the Hermes cabin, were fighting in red, while the Athena cabin's team had blue. Waves lapped softly on the sand as Chiron cantered out to the water's edge. He turned to face the group.

"Heroes! Welcome to Battleship Siege!" He called. "Traditional siege rules apply; The red team will be defending their ship tonight, while blue will attack. The reds' aim is to defend their ship until the entire other team have surrendered or are incapacitated. The blues must root the other team off the ship and take it as their own. No boats past the property line. _No_ killing or seriously maiming. All magical items are permitted."

Everyone cheered and raised their weapons, as the Athena cabin led the red team off towards their boats and Travis and Connor led the blues the opposite way down the beach, to where a cluster of smaller dinghies lay on the sand.

"Okay, here's the plan." Travis said in a hushed tone.

The blue team were gathered in a rough ring around their two captains. Behind us, the trireme glided slowly across the sound, trailed by about a dozen sentry boats. Kids were rushing across the deck, no doubt setting plenty of nasty booby traps.

"We're gonna send out…" He did a quick head count. "… ten decoy boats, two campers in each, to distract the sentries. Cause a ruckus. Connor and I can help with that." The brothers grinned impishly at each other. "Then, we have five boats, with our best fighters. This is when it gets good." Travis turned to Lou Ellen. "We have Hecate kids on _those_ boats, and they make them invisible, with magic and stuff. You guys can do that, right? Yeah, okay. We can have six support players for when– I mean if– anything goes wrong. And… we don't get our butts kicked."

We cheered again, albeit uncertainly, as Travis and Connor led us down the beach, to where about a dozen boats were lined up in the surf. Hastily the counsellors assigned roles, as our adversaries prepped their boat further, drifting almost lazily across the sea about a hundred metros out.  
Each of our wooden boat was big enough for four people, at least, with a small engine strapped to the back. Not very Greek-era, but a little more effective than twenty-pound wooden oars.

Connor came over to Jon. "Jon, you go support, okay? Figure out if you have any powers. Blowing them up would be very useful. Or turning them into trees. Or–"

"I think I got it. Thanks, Connor."

Jon and I headed over to our boat. I scowled across the sound, past the boat as the sun sank slowly below the horizon. This would not be easier in the dark.  
I heaved our boat onto the swell and scampered in. Jon was hunkered down at the bow. I gripped the tiller steadily and I yanked the throttle. The hull shuddered as our engine turned, and we pulled into the blue team's small fleet as the sky exploded in a maelstrom of pink and orange pastels.  
The ten decoy assault ships were arranged in a rough arrowhead, while our soon-to-be invisible campers flanked them on either side. The support vessels, Jon and I included, hung back behind them.

Someone passed a signal along to the edges of the parade. The Hecate kids and the heroes that accompanied them were crouched low, weapons in hand. Then, the Hecate kids collectively snapped their fingers. The air around the five boats shimmered. There was a sudden shift, as if the light folded in over itself, and our boats were gone, without so much as a ripple.  
I tensed, waiting for a signal from the other team. The trireme was still a few hundred meters out.  
There was no alarm raised, but the sentry boats had stopped tailing the larger craft. Several of them were rushing towards us across the waves. The campers that stood on them looked mean, confident and very much armed. We rushed to meet them.

There was a sudden commotion as the two sides met. Two boats met impact with a crunch; Several half-bloods were launched into the water as a cry went up and all Hades broke loose.  
Campers lept form ship to ship, swords and spears flashing in their hands. Our assault squad gleefully retaliated, causing more than what mayhem was required. Blades met with metallic screeches, with fighter yelling either in triumph as they knocked someone off their boat or dismay when they were the ones taking an unsolicited dip in Long Island sound. Kids abandoned their boats, stepping erratically from deck to deck. Blunted (yet effective) arrows sailed over our heads from the Apollo campers, smacking campers into the sea and punching holes in enemy boats. Jon watched, entranced, while I myself had a great time pinning the Ares kids with bronze feathers. It was a beautiful mess.

It started getting less beautiful when there was a more intense clamor. Something thudded on the deck of one of the boats, and everyone rushed to get away. Then the something exploded in a miniature explosion of lime flames. _  
Greek Fire_. They were small amounts, not enough to seriously harm anyone but certainly enough to blow a hole in a boat. I had had enough of that particular explosive for one day. I looked up to see more small vials of magical green gasoline soaring from catapults on the trireme.  
I scowled, standing up suddenly and slashing _Iérax_ as I did so. Glowing metal feathers of death miraculously intercepted the jars mid-flight. I felt a bit better as there was a unplanned fireworks display in the sky.

The alarms chose that moment to start blaring. The buzzer sounded, and there was a sharp _pop_ sound. On our left flank, just fifty meters from the trireme, three of our stealth boats became visible. Six of our campers cringed awkwardly as they realized they were in full view, like kids caught taking a cookie form the jar.  
This picture was ruined as they dove into the water, just before their boats exploded in unison, like .

I sat back down and hastily snatched up the tiller, yanking the throttle a little to boat lurched forward suddenly, making Jon stumble backward.

"Something went wrong." I explained through gritted teeth, swinging around the cluster of fighting, our skiff bouncing across the water towards the bow of the enemy ship. The campers on-deck were busy flinging greek fire and other assorted explosives at our team. As we passed the floating remains of our unfortunately non-inivisble boats, the kids who were freestyling over to us. I shook my head fervently, racing around the kids.  
There was a sudden and jarring falter in our course. I grunted and had to stop as Jon pulled someone into our boat.

"What are you doing?" I muttered acidly. Jon shook me off, straining to pull whoever it was into our boat

He groaned with renewed effort and heaved a sopping wet girl on deck. It took a moment to recognize her– long, wavy brown hair and pale skin. Cecily Pan, the quiet girl from Hecate. I held myself back from complaining that we probably didn't need the Hcte kid that couldn't even keep _one_ stupid boat invisible.  
We took off again, as Cecily spluttered and coughed up water. There were more explosions as vials of Greek fire wrecked the ships around us. We had been spared thus far, but I realized with a start that we were par of the last handful of blue team boats left floating, a hopefully assuming our other boat was still invisible and intact.

You know how I said earlier that something went wrong? This is when everything _really_ went wrong.

There was a shout from someone on the trireme. They were suddenly pointing at us, loading vials onto ballistae. _Crap_.  
With a round of snapping noises, the greek fire was spinning through the air in our direction. I panicked and let go of the tiller, slashing my sword and firing bronze feathers, with little effect– only tow of the vials were blown up. Most of the deadly bottles were off course, but three or four were bound to make some serious contact.  
The tiller went crazy when I let, making the boat do a crazy figure-of-eight. I fought for control while simultaneously holding Jon in the boat. As the boat leveled out, I spat out a breath of relief. We had, through some magical out burst of luck, been spare dorm the first wave of missiles. But the red team had already started reloading, and all their weapons were trained on us. I watched obstinately as Jon release his _kopis_ with a flash of warm light, and managed to slice an arrow out of the air.

Then our luck ran out. The first ballista finished reloading and fired a direct arrow of glowing Greek boom-juice. It plonked into our boat, right at my feet. I had just enough time to yell, "JUMP!" Before I dived overboard. There was a resonant _BOOM_ and a flare of emerald as I was enveloped by icy water.  
I let myself sink for a moment, before I realised, _Wait, crap, I'm drowning!_ I hastily unbuckled my heavy armor and kicked my way upwards. My head broke the surface and I gassed for air. Jon bobbed up next to me while Cecily was looking soaked and angry over to the other side of our very much exploded boat. She was chanting quietly to herself, reciting some kind of spell. Her eyes glowed with a misty green light.

"Well, great!" Jon exclaimed, spewing salt water. "Now what are we going to to?"

 _Cecily_ certainly had a plan. She finished her incantation with a single harsh syllable, and her body began to glow green. A thin vortex of mist started to swirl around her, and she rose slowly out of the water. She floated eerily away, beckoning us silently after her. Jon started to pull himself towards the ship in a strong front crawl. I was left to doggypaddle like a third wheel in their wake.

Our enemies had momentarily forgotten about us, which was lucky seeing as we were less than twenty meters form the great wooden hull of their ship. My head was too frantic to teleport even the last few feet.  
When we reached the boat, Cecily grunted and dropped into the water with a splash.

"How's it feel to be back among us mere mortals, Supergirl?" Jon muttered. She ignored him, scanning the side of the ship. Thankfully, it had stopped actually _sailing._ Rows of magical self-pulling oars lay dormant, dragging in the water. The red team had conveniently dropped anchor to beat the ichor out of us.

Cecily cursed. "Could those gods-damned engineers not have left a single hand hold on this thing?" She grumbled. (Note that this was the first time I ever heard this girl say _anything._ Ever.) I silently agreed, too busy trying to stay afloat to reply.

"Couldn't you just float up there?" Jon suggested.

Cecily murmured, "Not enough strength. Have to cool down."

Jon's brow furrowed in concentration. He rested a hand on the boat's hull as it swayed in the waves. His golden hair had darkened with water, and it was plastered to his scalp. He looked like a regular surfer, except the back of his shirt was a little crispy form greek fire.  
He pulled out his pen-knife, and pressed the button. When the light faded, he wasn't holding his regular _kopis_ – there was a beautifully crafted polished oak bow in his palm, complete with red leather grip and a full quiver of bronze-tipped arrows on his back.

Jon grinned, "Nice! I think I got an idea, now."

He pulled an arrow form his quiver and smoothly nocked it. His legs pumped under the water to keep him floating. I didn't see how he could have hit anything with an arrow without training from Chiron. My doubts were proven wrong as, with the _twang_ of a bowstring his arrow bulleted over my head, and sliced through the mainsheet. The rope convulsed as it flopped over the boat's rail and draped into the date rent to us.

"Sweet shot." I commented, awestruck, as Jon braced his feet against the side of the boat, rope in hand.

As Jon scrambled up the line, I noticed a slight ripple in the air, sliding up the right flank. Whatever had delayed them beforehand, our two other invisible boats were finally here. But we were leading the charge.  
Cecily and I hurriedly followed Jon up the makeshift rope ladder. Jon itself was crouched at the lip of the rail, trying to stay out of sight form the twenty-odd kids who were on deck, but most of them were either polishing off our remaining support boats or firing arrows and Greek fire into the floating melee, which was still going strong.

Cecily and I joined Jon at his perch. I peered over the railing, grinding my teeth at the sight of almost two dozen heavily armoured campers. I realized with internal agony that almost all of the Athena kids were still on-board. They were the best fighters in camp, all of them able to figure out the best strategy to get you on your butt in seconds.

"Okay, here's the plan." Jon said. "Romano, you and I… we'll go hit them with our swords–" He waved his weapon, which he had reverted into _kopis_ style, "–and Cecily, you do magic stuff."

"You're kidding, right?" I grumbled, but i didn't have a better plan. Cecily, of course, said nothing.

I drew _Iérax_ silently. I noticed Jon's blade star to glow almost white-hot, with steam curling off it. I made a mental note not to get in his way. Cecily drew a curious-looking silver colored dagger.  
Jon looked straight ahead, like he was psyching himself up.

" _Go!_ " He shouted.

* * *

 **Hey guys!**

Wow, this update took a lot longer, sorry. But it's also freaking _long_ , like by far the longest chapter yet. I think you can probably guess that I also ran into a lot of writer's block during this :( So sorry if the quality is iffy. And also, we need to make more words for a boat. I ran out after about two sentences. Note that the next Chapter won't be for a while because I'm going on holiday for a week over Halloween break :/ Hopefully you guys enjoyed it, please don't forget to review and follow.

 _Translations:_

 _ **Iérax** \- Hawk_

 _ **Fáros** \- Beacon_


	6. Chapter 6

**6. Who Let the Dogs Out? **

**_Cecily_**

As happens with most terrible plans, things went wrong fairly quickly.

At first, of course, it was great. We had the element of surprise on our side, and I was able to throw off a few decent incantations, making half a dozen enemies go flying off deck like cannonballs with blasts of green fog.  
I tried to avoid using my knife, but I did manage to bonk a mean-looking Ares kid on the nose.  
The boat was a maelstrom of good-hearted violence. Romano's rough-cut bronze sword flashed in the dying sun, shooting shards of blunt metal that _thwacked_ enemies violently a she zapped around, teleporting from corner to corner. I noticed he used a veritably un-Greek style– he jabbed at enemies legs, swerving around fighters, never really stopping to stay in one place before popping instantaneously to another position. He moved erratically, like he couldn't decide who to fight.

Jon wasn't doing to bad either, for someone who had likely never held a sword before. He was wielding a curved _kopis_ sword that glowed with warm light. I noticed his clothes drying as thick steam curled from his skin. I decided not to give him a spontaneous hug anytime soon, at least until he stopped glowing like he was the human lantern.  
Kids were partially blinded as Jon's bronze blade reflected sunlight. He slashed enemy weapons out of hands. He bonked other kids on the head with the curved pommel of his sword. He whapped them with the flat of his blade, sweeping a few Athena campers into the surf.

In no time, the deck was almost completely… still brimming with more than a dozen angry campers, most with weapons, the rest armed with bad attitudes. I hefted my knife and started muttering under my breath, but I felt in my gut that I probably wouldn't have strength enough for a serious spell. I had to make this last one count, and I had the exact incantation in my arsenal to do so.

There was a sudden commotion towards the starboard side as Nemesis campers flanked Romano while he was distracted as he was hitting Sherman from Ares with a barrage of bronze feathers to the head. The Nemesis kids each charged him with their shields, sandwiching the son of Janus between them with a dull thump.  
Romano uttered an odd noise, somewhere between a yelp and a wheeze like a broken accordion as he dropped this sword and hit his knees.

"Romano!" Jon cried as he sent Malcolm from the Athena cabin tipping off the deck with a grunt. But Jon was distracted by the loss of Romano, and a red camper swung his heavy hammer into his chest, knocking Jon backwards with a very un-hero-ly squeak. He hit the deck on his butt and slid into the mast, just as I finished my chant with a single harsh syllable that hummed in the air like a bass note.  
There was a sound like the crack of a whip and a whirlwind of icy-whit emits kicked up around my ankles, swirling and priding until it blanketed the deck like shifty snow. The kids nearest to me cried out suddenly as waves of mist enveloped them, muffling their shouts and binding them in place. The air was filled with a cacophony of snapping sounds that bounced around the bay.

Mist dispersed suddenly like starburst, rolling away form the enemy kids… who weren't quite kids anymore. In their place stood a band of live, clucking chickens.  
I almost laughed, but the spell hadn't worked as well as planned.

"There's barely a dozen gods-damned chickens!" I muttered, my vision swimming with fatigue. I was weaker than I had thought. The spell had been great, and pretty comical if I don't say so myself, but there was still twenty-odd armed and angry red team kids.  
Jon groaned and got to his feet shakily, snatching his _kopis_ off the deck. He held it out in front of him, bronze blade shaking. Romano scampered to his legs, staggering over to us, clutching his side and grimacing in pain. His sword hung loosely from his fingers.  
And thus we were all grouped (or trapped, you know, whatever) with our backs to the fore-mast. I was the only one with the strength to hold off even one of the enemy. And even at the best of times I was only _okay_ at that.  
Long story short, we were screwed. But I wasn't about to back down.

I slashed my knife back and forth. "Stay– Stay back!" I yelled, a little more uncertain than I had intended. But my knife was certain– certainly made of Ethereal Steel and sharp as Hades. But, simultaneously, it was one knife against twenty assorted spears and swords. I prayed secretly to whichever was the god of ass-kickings.

Then, suddenly there was a discord form the back of the red team's phalanx. I heard a bang.  
The cavalry had come rolling in. "Finally." I muttered.  
Shouts ran up. Kids jumped out of the way, creating a clear path to where two armored figures were prancing around, dripping wet. They had swords at their waists, and thy were heavily involved in the process of lighting firecrackers and chucking them at the red team's ankles.  
The Stoll brothers were doing what they did best– distracting the enemy while three of their fiends skulked around the throng, smacking stragglers off the boat with yells that were muffled by yelling from the Stoll's victims.

Jon and Romano were quick to join in, disarming and shoving enemies overboard. I, meanwhile tried to help Connor and Travis, manipulating the mist to make my foes think they were facing the wrong way, or stuck in a bathroom back at Camp. It was simple stuff, but it worked; half of the red team kept turning around, looking confused, and the rest of them were trudging around, weapons on the floor, pushing against imaginary toilet doors.

I parried an attack with my knife. I took a half-second to lock eyes with the glittering irises of my attacker before I span, and _bonked_ the pommel of my knife right between his eyes. I continue son my way with thin curls of mist trailing behind my footsteps.

It was beautiful chaos, and in no time all the red team except a handful of unarmed and/or unconscious kids grouped on-deck in a huddle.  
The fighting on the skiffs out at the water was over, with mixed results. But the goal had been achieved. The blue team had taken the ship. In retrospect, we had sieged the living crap out of it.

But of course that was too good to last.

"You guys led the attack," Travis gave Jon a prideful pat on the shoulder. "You go collect the laurels."

Jon led us belowdecks, limping slightly from his injury. Romano and I brought up the rear.  
The door creaked eerily as Jon led us down a set of stairs, down to a single long corridor, the length go the ship, with six doors leading to separate rooms on either side. The corridor swayed under the late evening swell, floorboards creaking under our feet.  
We all stood still for a moment. No-one said anything, which suited me. The only surprise came when Jon tentatively raised an arm. His breath caught for a moment, like he was tensing. Then there was a flare, and his forearm began to glow with balmy yellow light.

"Dude, what the hell?" Romano asked, awestruck. He prodded Jon's arm, and pulled his hand back with a yelp. "Ouch! You're _hot_ , Jon!"

"Like the Human Torch?" I suggested distractedly.

Romano snickered."Yeah, more like a flashlight."

Jon shoved Romano playfully, still unmoving. "Shut up… um, Teleport-dork? I'll work on those insults... Look, I don't know how I'm doing it." He shook his arm, "I just… can."  
Jon jabbed a thumb towards the corridor, and began to take careful steps down the hall, leading Romano and I.

Romano unsheathed his sword silently. I tightened my grip on my knife. The Ethereal Steel glinted in the half-light, as Jon led us on, sword in one hand, light in the other.

We came to the first room. Door locked. Second. Empty, except for an empty barrel. The cycle continued, empty room after empty room, until there was but a single room remained. A sliver of light cut form under the wooden door. Jon extinguished his arm, and held his sword ready. He put a finger to his lips. _Quiet._ Romano gripped his blade in two fists. I raised my knife uncertainly.

Jon lept forward and kicked down the door with a bang, and took a step forward, into the room. Romano sprang forward after him, only to rear-end Jon, who had stopped barely a step inside. I shuffled inside after the two boys.  
The room was larger than the others, a bit smaller than your average tennis court. It was lit by a single gas lantern hanging from the roof, throwing the corners almost ocmpletely into shadow.  
In the middle of the floor, on a raised pedestal, was a golden-leafed laurel wreath of victory. Unfortunately, two girls stood in the way.

One figure lounged in the corner was Charlie Foster from Hephaestus. A notorious fellow prankster of the Stolls, and an impressive engineer even by Hephaestus standards. She was messing with a small metal controller of some kind in her hand, and her blue eyes danced with mischievous light. Not good news.  
Even worse was Hades' own Leah Grady, who stood relaxed-like new to the pedestal, Stygian Iron hunting knife in hand. She looked business.

Jon was staring at her, mixed emotions on his face. Somewhere between anger, stubbornness and eagerness… and maybe something else. I wasn't sure. His sword was pointed directly at Leah, though if that unnerved her she didn't show it.

"Did you guys really think we would leave the wreaths undefended?" Leah smiled with dark amusement.

"So I'm guessing you're not gonna surrender, then?" Romano paused, letting his comment drop. "No, I guess not."He hefted his sword, surely ready to blast some metal feathers. Un fortunately, Charlie suddenly whooped. Which wasn't a good sign.

She pressed a button on the control in her hands. There was a whirling noise, and the scraping of metal on metal. The three of us whipped our heads around nervously.

'What did you do?' Jon demanded.

Charlie smirked, and spoke for the first time. 'You'll see.' She said mischievously.  
With a whirr, three wooden panels of the ceiling slid open, revealing three seemingly empty holes- Until there was a flash of harsh red light, and three… somethings dropped from the ceiling with loud metallic thuds.

'Not good.' I muttered, clasping my knife even tighter.

The things were made of bronze– of the magic variety, I'm sure– and they had crimson eyes that glowed like headlamps. As they shook stiffness form their hsinign limbs, pistons whirred and clicked. One of them scrartched behind its ear.  
Three metal dogs, each the size of a Doberman, and een more dangeorus-looking.  
I wanted to run. I looked to either side of me, and saw Romano and Jon, with swords ready and eyes determined. I was Cecily Pan, daughter of Hecate, and I wans't goign to back down.  
Leah smiled slightly as the dogs seemed to notice us, and they turned slowly, catching us in the glow of their ruby eyes. Charlie smirked.

'These are my puppies!' She said enthusiastically. 'They're modelled after an old friend of the Hades cabin, Festus. They're intuned to my every command, and I think you three musketeers can guess what I'm gonna ask them to do next.'

She opened her mouth to speak, but then Romano dissapeared suddenly with a fain _pop_. The dog nearest to him whirred drillbit teeth and dropped its shackles. 'What the Hades?' Leah grunted, whipping her head around.  
Romano appeared behind her, and made a lunge for the laurels. Jon chose his moment, and slashed at one of the dogs, slicing off its snout cleanly. The dog made a whirr that could have been a whimper. The back of its all-too-visible throat glowed orange, and Jon stumble dout of the way as a blast of fire. Of course, They were fire breathing.

'ATTACK!' Charlie shouted suddenly, pressed another button on her controller. With a howl, two dogs leaped at me as their friend fought with Jon.

I yelped and somehow did a backward tumble, dodging twin brainings from the dogs. I came up and burst out a quick incantation. ' _Métallo , exousía , stravá!'_

It worked, praise Zeus. Something clicked and fizzed in one of the dogs' brain, making smoke curl from its ears. A red eye twitched spasmodically as it stopped attacking, before promptly collapsing wiht a metallic whine. I internally fist-pumped.  
The other dog lunged. I barely managed a parry. It swiped. I stumbled back. We twirled in a terrifying dance across the room, as Jon yelled and probably melted the dogs face or whatever.

Romano was zapping around, trying to get close to the laurels. But Leah stood by the pedestals, using catlike agility and reflexes to slash her knife at him wherever he appeared. He was held at bay, sparks literally flying as their blades clashed. Romano parried her attacks with frantic discomfort, moving backward in small steps, probably too tired to teleport some more.  
Then I saw the opening. Jon and his new puppy moved away, and a heavenly gap appeared to the pedestal– but it was too far to run for the laurels, even with Leah right there and undoubtedly ready to kick my ass– but I had energy enough for one last spell, and I had the perfect on ein mind. Hopefully.

I muttered cryptic words under my breath. ' _Kaléste , théma , chorís város_ …' I raised my palm as my incantation finished, and there was a sudden chill up my spine. I snapped my fingers, and the sound was like the crack of a whip.  
There was a terrifying moment when nothing happened– Leah and the remaining automatons turned to me, and Charlie raised the controller menacingly. But then, a shroud of mist blossomed from my fingers, and wrapped around the laurels. The flew into my grasp. I clenched my fist, and turned without looking, lunging towards the door. I heard everyone running after me as I passed through the doorway, and up the corridor. Jon and Romano yelled encouragement.

My spine tingled, and I dodged instincitvely to the right as a weighted cord flung ahead of me. I heard Charlie grunt with frustration. I was close now, so close– I could see the exit. I heard footsteps pounding the timber at my heels. I gritted my teeth as a rushed idea weaved itself in my head. I dove to the left, rolling, balancingg into a crouch, and sticking a straight leg out to the side– with a synchronized yelp, two girls caught on my shin and were thrown headfirst to the floor. I threw myself forwards, crashing through the door. I squinted at the sunlight, and heard Travis calling out from overboard.

'Jon! Cecily, Romano! Where the–'

'Here!' I yelled back hoarsely, and ran to the edge of the boat.  
I vaulted over the side, and landed on a dinghy with a thud. Travis, Connor and other teammates stared at me. I breathlesssly waved the golden laurels at them, and they looke at eachother with matching grins.  
I heard more crashing on deck, accompainied by metallic clanging and visible blasts of flames. Shortly, a barbecued-looking Jon and Romano dropped into our boat. Romano was girnning like a madman, while Jon had the typical look of someone who had been a little too close to being the human torch.

'Go.' The boys said simultaneously, as the dogs on deck howled. Travis started the engine, and we raced across the bay towards the beach where a crows od our teammates cheered. Jon, Romano and I beamed at eachother. We had won.

* * *

 **Hey guys! I'm sooooo sorry about the slow update, but i literally finished my exams today. I'm not sure how soon the next chapter will be, but most definitely before the end of Jnauary. I love you guys, and reviews/follows/suggestions/PM and all that are really appreciated 3**

 **-Jordan**


	7. Chapter 7

**7:** **Chiron Drops his S'more**

 _ **Romano**_

I think everyone, at least once in their life, deserves to win the Camp Half-Blood war games. At least once.  
Okay, maybe that's not _exactly_ available to everyone– but the pure feeling of elation that sat in the pit of my stomach when I stood next to Cecily, when she raised the glinmmering laurels in a triumphant fist, the raucous cheering and endless grins and pattign on the shoulder– gods, Chiron calls us all heroes, but I'd never exactly felt like one until then.

The Stoll brothers grinned at Jon and I as the boat rumbled up onto the sand. 'Nice one. We were just about to sink it, blow a hole in the side or something. But you handled it.' Connor smirked. I couldn't tell if he was kidding, but there were a few crates at the back of the boat that clinked like they had bottles of greek Fire stored, so I decided not to question him.

Jon looked ecstatic, his face plastered with a glowing grin. His face practically glowed, and he barely looked like he was in pain from all the cuts on his arms. Cecily was trying not to smile, but couldn't help it.  
Overall, a huge success story. But most demigod's stories don't end with eeryone all alive and happy. So naturally everyhting had to go wrong.

Dinner was, naturally a blur of cheering and jeering. The other team came in just as I was shovelling my third brisket down my throat. One drawback of being able to teleport in the blink of an eye is that I badically almost die if I do it in bulk.  
The troupe of- for lack of a better word - losers came in, all slouched and scowling, most of them halfway through taking off their armour and flinging it to the side.

Travis and Connor stood up in welcome, and tried to hide their wry grins with soppy-looking innocent smiles.  
'Oh, hey Malcolm. How's it going? I hope you guys aren't too tired… honestly, my arms are a little sore from holding up those _heavy_ laurels…' Travis trailed off rocking on his heels and snickering.

Malcolm, the Athena counsellor, looked pissed for aminute, before a slightly straine dsmile broke through.  
'Nice, Stoll. Too bad you had to get a bunch of twelve-year-olds to lead the charge.' He replied, setting his helmet down on his seat at the Athena table.

Travis flushed, but smirked good-naturedly. 'Yeah, well maybe if you guys hadn't fought like headless chickens–'  
Malcolm held up a hand, and interjected. '–Okay, maybe we can conrinue this conversation in a week after we beat your team in Capture the flag and...'

This was classic post-game banter. I let it fade into the background, instead focusing on my plate. I speared another slice of brisket.  
I felt the becnh creak as someone sat down behind me. I turned cautiously, and was greeted by a pair of gold-hazel eyes and a tangle of light brown hair. Jon Griffin.  
The initial shock of how unorthodox this was was momentarily blanketed by a rich tranquillity. It was like Jon was sending off waves of mellowness.

I snapped out of it as people started to point. 'Uh, Jon?' I said, a little hushed. 'You're supposed to be sitting… at your table, with…' I trailed off, pointing lazily towards the Apollo kids, who were pointing and murmuring under their breath.

Jon shrugged, and smiled weakly. He looked exhausted, but considerably less nervy and considerably more comfortable. It suited him well– he had taken on… a somewhat brighter quality. It was like he was giving off an aura of happiness and nonchalance. 'Who cares?' He said happily. _Probably everyone,_ I thought to myself, but bit my tongue. 'How's your knee?' He asked.

I frowned. 'Oh, right. my knee. Right.' I felt a little flushed. Not exactly annoyed, not at Jon, but– everyone had seen us by then. There were muted snickers and whispers layered under the general clinking of cutlery on plates. All the attention drove me crazy. I wanted to get up and walk, just wander around, anywhere–

Jon interrupted my musings. 'Yeah? It lookedlike you got hit pretty bad. I'm totally dead– Is it like this everyday?' He pushed his hair back, tangling it either more. It stuck out in wavy angles and knots.  
I was about to answer, suddenly aware I was staring, but Chiron called out.  
'Campers make your way to the Amphitheatre for the Campfire! S'mores are complimentary!'

I stood up. 'C'mon, Soldier Boy. It's time for terrible songs and burned marshmallows.' He followed me out of the Mess Hall happily. I was happy– not just because of winning, and all that, but… I was proud, a little. Of what I had helped Jon do. Of all the doors I had opened for him. I had almost forgotten about all the ones that were still locked for me.

The flames were cracking like a chrous of whips as they swooped upward into the night sky, a merry shade of bronze. Tne crackling and spitting of logs was all but drowned out by a third round of mythology-appropriate carolling, led as always by the Apollo cabin.  
I was sitting at the right end of the amphitheater, half-humming the tune of " _This Land is Midas' Land_ ".  
To be honest, campfire time was never my thing. Having to sit down for an hour and sing goofy songs, while suitably insane for my tastes, was undoubtedly boring to me. I wanted to be doing something kinetic– that's why camp usually suited me so well. We were constantly active, doing at least something. The campfire was _jolly_ , sure, and I could appreciate the sentiment of wanting to scream about your grandmother's battle armour around a roaring flame, but I'd frankly rather have been walking through the monster-infested woods at midnight. Seriously.

'This kind of blows, right?'  
I turned around with a raised brow, a little irked that someone had snuck up on me for a second time. I was greeted by the not-quite-smiling face of Leah Grady. I resiste dthe urge to look past her, scarcely believing she had spoken. But her dark eyes were focused fiercely on me.

'Uhm.' I said, subconsciously charmingly, as always. She rolled her eyes, and I went on. 'Yeah, it's pretty boring. Fun in a cheesy kind of way though, right?'

She rolled her tongue, and shrugged. 'Yeah. I guess.'

'Why are you talking to me? Is it because we beat you?' I blurted.

Leah looked at me, her brow heavy with contempt. 'No, you idiot. Well, kind of. Not really.' She sighed and rolled her eyes. 'I've seen you talking to Jon.'  
I nodded, still mystified.  
'What's he… as in, like…'

It struck me she was asking what I thought of him. It was such a spontaneous, out-of-character flash of insecurity from the usually stoic and impenetrable Leah that I was speechless for a drawn-out moment. My brow furrowed, and I took another second to form my words.

'He's… kind of… I don't know. He doesn't talk so much, but I've got a feeling he's just… getting used to the whole demigod lifestyle. He's…' I trailed off, my eyes suddenly caught by something outside the circle of pulsing orange light across the amphitheater floor– an imposing shape that was a deeper black than the backdrop of shadowy woods behind it. I stood up tentatively, and Leah's brow creased. 'Romano? What the Hades are you doing?'  
I ignored her and narrowed my eyes, and the shape came into further focus. Suddenly, a log tumbled and the fire spat a heavy shower of sparks outward, towards the woods where the shadows were densest, illuminating the trees, and finally casting dim light upon the figure.  
It was a person. It was barely a second before the embersfell to the ground, but one glimpse was enough– a guy, tall and skeletally–thin, clad in tattered black clothes. He stood stooped like an old man, and his eyes were hidden in a curtain of lank jet-black hair. The bottom of his face, however, was left open to the sparked light. A sharp, near-fleshless jawline with a sickening toothy grin spread across his face. The scariest part was, I got that shiver down my spine, like cold sweat. Like someone was staring right at me.

Then, the tiny pinpricks of flame drowned in the darkness and the man was flooded by black shadows again. I raised my foot to take a step forward, but umped when Leah suddenly grabbed my arm. 'Romano!' She snapped her fingers, a little unnecessarily, to get my attention. 'Not funny. What are you staring at?'  
I pointed, my hand shaking inexplicably. 'There.' I breathed, then cleared my throat, and spoke again, louder. 'Over there, in the trees. Didn't you…' I trailed off, the bewildered look on her face answering my question.  
I sighed and sat back down dramatically. 'Oh, fuck this, man. This is just classic horror movie trope number one, right?' I was playing it off as a big joke, but I shuddered. There was still that icy feeling of eyes on me, boring into the back of my head. Instinctively, I turned and saw nothing but the slope of benches up to the top of the theater.  
Leah spoke again, impatience leaking from her voice. 'What are you staring at?'  
I turned around, and was about to make an excuse, but the half-hearted sing-along atmosphere of the campfire was suddenly pierced and shattered as someone ran through the arched doorway of the amphitheater. The camper was fully clad in armor panting heavily as they sprinted across the paved stones, coming to a stop in front of Chiron. The centuar, aware of the panicked demeanour of the camper, dropped his s'more and looke down at the campe ras they panted heavily and dropped to one knee, half out of respect and ritual and half out what looked like tiredness.  
'Speak, child.' Chiron said, his distressed frown making him look more than his ripe age of three millennia. No one spoke, and the silence following his words was broken only by the quiet crackle of the flames, which had diminished to a sickly green colour.  
The kid at his feet took a long second to stand, and another to remove their helmet, revealing a fair and slightly sweat-sheened face, with strands of dark hair plastered to skin and sticking at odd angles. The camper was visibly shaking as they turned to face the crowd.

Cecily Pan spoke breathlessly, but her words rang out around the crowd like she had screamed it. 'It's Adrienne. The Oracle. She's…' _Pause for dramatic effect_ , I thought innaporopriately as she took a breath, her eyes darting around. 'She's gone. The Oracle's been taken.'

* * *

Hey guys! Sorry about this chapter taking so long, and I'm even more sorry it's shorter than the others, but I've had a lot on my plate lately (plus I love cliffhangers). However, I do have an important announcement regarding the future of this story and updates and whatnot.  
Firstly, I've noticed a lot of people on this site also have Tumblr. So I went ahead and made a blog for this story, where I'll try to keep you guys updated on the progress of new chapters, I could post little drabbles or something, and maybe people could ask me questions about what's going on. Please join the blog if you have Tumblr, and even if you don't it only takes about five minutes to sign up. No hassle tho, I just thought since the story has been getting decent views lately I could try something different. Let me know what you think in the reviews!  
To join the blog, just click the **link** on **my profile** _(Note: I've been told the link isn't working for some people. If this happens, just paste the link text into your search bar, or just search up **night-over-olympus on tumblr** )_ **.** Thanks guys!


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